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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30103320">Fealty</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/miceenscene/pseuds/miceenscene'>miceenscene</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Shakarian - A Descent into Madness [27]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Mass Effect Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>And she is valid in that, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Making Garrus the Service Switch he deserves to be, Mass Effect 3, Oaths &amp; Vows, Sexual Roleplay, Smut, The author has a thing for armor, trust is sexy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 23:21:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,886</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30103320</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/miceenscene/pseuds/miceenscene</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Garrus &amp; Shepard find some escapism in the midst of a war.</p>
<p>This is the product of listening to Rimsky’s Scheherazade too many times whilst pondering the inherent eroticism of blood oaths.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Shakarian - A Descent into Madness [27]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1246385</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>97</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The Incident was an </span>
  <em>
    <span>accident</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and Garrus swore he would maintain that story to his dying day. It was not his fault that when Shepard really got him going sometimes odd things came out of his mouth. If anything, it was Shepard’s fault. Her and her flexible, strong, smooth body did unspeakable things to him that he really couldn’t rationally explain outside of the moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The night of The Incident, they’d started in the elevator, cautious at first then building as it became clear no one would interrupt them, then shedding armor carelessly in the hallway just outside her quarters. They’d made it to the desk at least for the first round. Then half a round against the fishtank, till finally she had him pinned down on the bed. His hands gripped her waist, following her rhythms eagerly, as she found her pleasure on top of him. She was warm and clenching around him as his head swam with Shepard.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a phenomenon that Garrus had long since noticed, beginning really from the first time they ‘blew off steam’. In the run up to Shepard’s peaks, he found himself… needing, craving, desperate to give her what she desired. Probably some combination of turian martial instinct–she was still the commander of the ship he served on, even if she claimed she wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> commander anymore–and plain attraction to the woman herself. As well as his own perfectionist tendencies. If he was going to do a job, he wanted to do it The Best… and apparently that also applied to giving Shepard orgasms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And it was somewhere in the middle of this phenomenon that it happened. The Incident. Shepard was close, close enough for them both to taste it. And she gave him an order, deeper more right </span>
  <em>
    <span>there</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And, as he happily obeyed, it just came out of his mouth in a soul-deep rumbling groan.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes</span>
  </em>
  <span>, your majesty.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was half a second before they both heard what he’d just said. Then it clicked. Glass shattered in the forefront of Garrus’ mind as a thousand warning lights suddenly started flashing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Meanwhile, Shepard paused, teetering on her edge, and looked down at him. Her face was flushed, chest heaving with exertion, eyes over-bright. “What did you–”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a dirty move, but to distract her, Garrus pressed his thumb to her clit and canted his hips just so, shoving her into bliss with a loud exclamation. She pulled him down with her, both of them shuddering and swearing in each other’s arms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His afterglow, however, was undercut with a strong tint of embarrassment. Luckily, nothing seemed to have bothered Shepard, who melted on top of him with her head resting on his chest. He trailed a few talons between her shoulder blades, making her hum and relax even more. Maybe she’d drift straight off to sleep, and in the morning his stupid mouth would be back under control. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But she shifted to the side into the waiting crook of his arm and molded around him in the usual, seemingly physically impossible for how perfect it was, way. “I should go clean up,” she sighed after another few minutes of quiet, stretching leisurely. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hummed an agreement, relaxing now that it seemed his little outburst had been forgotten. “I’ll take care of the sheets,” he replied, nuzzling a kiss to the top of her head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you,” she murmured, returning the kiss to the front of his carapace. With a soft smile, she got up. His hand traced the line down from her shoulder to her wrist to the tips of her fingers before she was out of reach. He admired the languid lines of her figure as she retreated, the bathroom door hissing shut behind her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was a close one.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Though he really should have known that his dodging skills were not that great. Or rather, Shepard’s ability to lay in wait should never be underestimated. Reckoning came a few evenings later. They were back in Shepard’s quarters again, but this time both reading through reports on her couch. Shepard liked to lean back against him and wrap his arm across her torso. Garrus liked it too because it was easy to lean over and stroke his mandible over her silky hair occasionally. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They’d been diligent for nearly three hours now, wading through the mounting horrors of war, but Garrus felt his eyes start to glaze over as he opened the next report from the Hierarchy. He blinked a few times to bring himself back into focus, only for it to happen less than two minutes later. Alright, perhaps it was time to call it a day. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His focus shifted to Shepard, a few tempting ideas popping up in the back of his mind. He brushed her hair to one shoulder so he could nuzzle a kiss to the other side of her neck. She hummed and her hand brushed the side of his face, but he didn’t have her full attention yet. That would have to change. He trailed the tip of his tongue up the side of her neck, up to her ear and over the shell of it, making the muscles in her core clench.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Done already?” she asked, her voice just slightly airy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Done for tonight,” he rumbled. His hand covered hers on the datapad, updated casualty estimates from Earth. The numbers just never stopped growing. “You should be too.” She let him take the pad from her, setting it down on the coffee table, before laying back with her head in his lap.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Perhaps you have a point.” Mentally setting aside the unfixable, she gave him a tired smile. “Did you want to go to bed? ...Orrr?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m a turian, Shepard. I’m pretty much always up for ‘orrr’.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She laughed quietly and sat up to straddle his lap, arms resting on his shoulders and making his subvocals start to rumble at her proximity.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How about you?” he asked, returning to his earlier work on her neck and sliding his hands across her waist. “Are you up for ‘orrr’?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She hummed and leaned into his ministrations. “That depends.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He really should have seen the trap, but he was too focused on trailing talon tips up the shallow valley of Shepard’s spine to see it at the time. “On?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you going to call me ‘your majesty’ again?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Crap.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He froze, hands under her shirt, mouth open on her neck. “You heard that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Garrus. I do tend to hear what you proclaim when you’re inside me.” She pulled back, making him look at her. “You mind explaining that one to me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shook his head. “It’s nothing, forget it.” And he tried to duck back in to distract her again, but she moved back once more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not nothing. I saw your face as you said it…” There was a teasing light in her eyes, coupled with a similar smirk across her lips. “Oh, come on. Remember I was the one who pitched that whole ‘let’s pretend we’re having a first date’ thing?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s a difference between faking the date we never got and… this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t mind taking things a step away from reality… seems almost a necessity these days.” Her eyes half-turned towards where the datapad still lay.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was a solid point. But some deep shameful part of him clenched at owning up to this particular non-reality. Her teasing look dimmed as he didn’t budge a metaphorical inch. Thank the spirits, it seemed like she might let this go. But he was caught off-guard when she cupped his face in her hands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There is </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span> you could tell me about yourself that would make me love you less. You know that right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He flinched from how deeply she struck. Consciously, yes. He trusted her when she said she loved him. The subconscious application was… tricky at times to prove that it had been completely accepted. Not all the time, just rare instances. Like right now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He nodded. “I know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay. Good.” She tipped her forehead to rest it against his. He was the luckiest damn turian in the entire galaxy. And he loved her just as much; he hoped she knew even though he hadn’t said it just yet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She smiled softly as she sat back. “You don’t have to tell me the explanation if you don’t want to. But…” She shrugged and moved off his lap, sitting on the couch next to him and picking back up her datapad. “If you did, maybe I could… play along.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The last two words came out just a touch rougher around the edges, sending a fizzing thrill to his gut and calling his bluff all at the same time. Just like she’d no-doubt intended. A whole new host of tempting ideas popped up in the back of his mind, their sum total enticing enough to overwhelm the shame.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was actually going to do this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How… much do you know about turian history?” he asked slowly, picking up his own datapad in a feigned casual manner to have something to look at.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Very little.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, it’s not as much turian history as… turian historical fiction.” He sucked in a breath for the strength to power through to the end of the explanation. “A… scandalous novel I read as a young recruit. Set during the unification wars, about a warlord and… her right-hand warrior.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could feel her gaze land on him, but he maintained focus on the words-turned-unparsable-shapes of his datapad. Embarrassment singed the back of his neck as silence filled the room. His first instinct was right; this was a silly fantasy, best kept to himself and not shared with someone whose respect he craved like Shepard’s. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He heard her shift and then her hand was under his chin, tilting his head to look up at her. His breath caught in his upper chest when he met her eyes. She’d stood, making her taller than he was from where he was sitting. Her posture was taught, like on the battlefield, yet somehow tempting at the same time. Strength and power radiated from her. A smile hinted in her eyes, but her mouth was set into a stoic line.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you want me to be your queen, Garrus?” she asked in a low voice that shifted like sand under a desert wind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>One dune after another, the horizon seemed as far now at dusk as it had been at dawn. Always dancing and shifting, no matter how steadfastly the General moved towards it. The glaring suns had beat unrelenting against his helmet all day, scorching his armor and the sand beneath him. But as they slipped beneath the horizon, he finally caught sight of his destination in the far distance. A camp of tents lay in the shadow of the mesa, spotted with torchlight and waving flags of red and black.</p><p>A small flurry of alarm kicked up at his approach to the camp, then stilled as he was recognized by the watch. His men greeted him warmly, but the General didn’t slow. He headed straight for the largest tent at the dead middle of the camp, trimmed in gold with two guards at the entrance. Momentum pulled him inside the tent where he finally stopped, removing his helmet and falling to one knee on the sumptuous rug across the floor.</p><p>It was scent that whispered of her arrival, more than sound or sight. Cool jasmine with the slight tang of tempered steel drifted towards him, surrounded him, familiar and intoxicating. Then the soft drag of a silk robe across carpet met his ears, followed by her voice, low and calm as a viper.</p><p>“You have returned, General Vakarian.”</p><p>“Yes, my Queen,” he answered.</p><p>“Rise and report.”</p><p>He stood and breath caught in his chest as he finally saw her, his Queen. Every time he saw her, it was first her eyes that captivated him, green as a forest and piercing as a dagger. Her waist-length crimson hair was loose, brushed to gleaming over one shoulder, and she was wrapped in a deep blue robe. She appeared unarmed, perhaps even vulnerable to the untrained eye. But he knew her better than that. She was dangerous, yet all the more beguiling for it.</p><p>At his prolonged silence, she lifted a single brow and turned to a small table at the opposite side of the tent that bore a pitcher and a few silver goblets. The General opened the bag he’d carried for days now and placed a sealed scroll on the wide table in the center of the room on which a large map was unfurled.</p><p>“As you requested, Lord Tulius has been removed. His head decorates the gates to his city.”</p><p>She didn’t pause her calm movements, pouring two goblets before turning back to face him. “And?”</p><p>“The new Lord has sworn five hundred soldiers when we ride on Gerou next month.”</p><p>She neared, jasmine and steel surrounding him once more, but she did not offer the second goblet. “And?” </p><p>“And Ardaraka will also be joining with one hundred archers and sending tribute.”</p><p>Her mouth remained steady, but an approving light shone in her eyes as she held out the goblet to him. The wordless approval rested on his brow brighter than any crown. He took the goblet carefully, gloved fingers brushing hers for a moment. Never looking away from the other, they both sipped the wine. Spices blossomed on his palette, heady and strong. </p><p>“Your work is always exemplary, General,” she said, stepping around him. Her shoulder just brushed his as she passed, burning him through his armor. “But this is to be commended.” She rounded the table and took another thoughtful sip as she sat down in the chair at the head. “Such efforts should not go unrewarded. Tell me what prize you would accept, and it shall be granted to you.”</p><p>She was a woman of her word. Up to half her kingdom could be granted to him if he but asked for it. As it was–</p><p>“There is only one prize that I desire.”</p><p>Her eyes locked to his, gaze as scorching as the suns and twice as rich. Then she set her cup down and relaxed back in the chair, a smile finally playing on her lips.</p><p>“Come and claim it then.”</p><p>Wasting no precious time, the General shed his gloves and rounded the table to stand before his Queen, eyes boring into hers, smoldering hot enough to catch flame. She offered up her hand, which he took in his, smoothing a thumb over her battle-calloused fingers before pressing a kiss to the knuckles.</p><p>“I swear to guard my Queen from harm and, with either my life or my death, ensure her continued dominion,” he whispered, repeating part of the oath he’d taken so many years ago. The solemn vow was carved on his spirit, the ethos of his life from that day onward. He turned her hand over and kissed her palm, then her wrist, feeling her steady pulse on his mouth plates. “Until my Queen releases me, death takes me, or the world ends.”</p><p>When he looked back to her face, her lips were slightly opened, eyes wide and utterly enraptured. Deep satisfaction suffused through him at the sight. Glimpses of the woman behind the crown were rare, and he coveted them jealously. For as assuredly he would follow her into death, some naive part of him longed to share her life even more. The awed warmth of her gaze kindled something deep inside him, something precious and pure. Something to be thought of only in the most private of moments and not yet voiced. Perhaps never to be spoken, only shown.</p><p>He knelt before her, basking in her rapt attention. With great care, he reached for her ankle, palm sliding up the smooth skin of her calf before stopping at her knee, which he lifted and placed on his shoulder as he moved in closer–submerging himself in jasmine and steel. Pulling her robe open, he found her completely bare underneath save for an encrusted dagger that was wrapped in a holster about her thigh. </p><p>He’d given the dagger to her not long after he came into her service. The reminder of how close she kept it on her person still sent a low shudder down his spine. Never unarmed that was his Queen, he mused, subvocals starting to purr. He traced the leather strap first with his fingers, then his mouth plates before drifting upwards and pulling her closer.</p><p>This near, her clearest scent filled his lungs–rich as earth, complex and mouth-wateringly bitter. Her thighs resting on his shoulders and his hands on her hips, he stared up at her in both wonder and desire. Her usual stoic front was holding strong for the moment, but he could see something stirring beneath her surface. He held there, waiting for the final permission. She granted it in a silent nod. </p><p>Not looking away, he kissed her center, making her eyes flutter shut momentarily. But she quickly regained her composure. It was always a battle with her, a testing of wills–he wouldn’t have it any other way. Determined, he delved deeper, still holding her eyes for as long as he could. Her hand rested at the back of his head, fingers just brushing his most sensitive area as he found hers. The sinews in her neck clenched as he circled and lapped, pushing and teasing her till she yielded for him. It came as his tongue slipped inside her warmth. Her eyes shut, mouth dropped half-open, and her hand on his head <em> clenched </em>, nails biting at his skin. A half-strangled gasp met his ears, sweeter than symphonies, rousing his own desire with its call.</p><p>Now it wasn’t a battle, but a crusade. Or perhaps a gauntlet, a test of his mastery of her pleasure. He never wanted to just satisfy her, to just sate her. He wanted to <em> ruin </em> her. To make every other partner pale in comparison. None could eclipse her in his eyes. It felt an honest, if perhaps hopeless, endeavor to strive for the same honor from her.</p><p>He pulled away from her, earning a low whimper of protest from his Queen that kicked his subvocals rumbling even lower. But he didn’t move far. His thumb circled over her center, drawing her attention, till he nipped the sensitive inner skin of her thigh. Her hips bucked at change in sensation, muscles rippling under his palms. He apologized with a swipe of his tongue, though he knew it would leave a mark. A reminder of his presence just for her. </p><p>Her other hand gripped his shoulder, a burning beacon that she was close to her end. He could retreat now, suffer her temporary wrath, for another valiant run for glory. Some nights, she let him indulge himself, bringing her closer and closer to her edge without letting her fall over. But her hand on the back of his head pulled him back to her center. No, she was not to be toyed with tonight. So he gladly surrendered to her will. Not replacing his finger, he dipped his tongue back inside her. </p><p>It took only two coordinated strokes before she fell, shuddering and clenching and gasping. She pulled him so close, curling over him as if to blur the boundaries between his being and hers. Tension shattered through her core, her limbs, stacking to insurmountable heights. Till, like a candle flame, it vanished, leaving only boneless, radiating warmth in its absence.</p><p>His Queen dropped against the back of the chair, hands relaxing their grip on him but not moving away. Her chest rose and fell as she struggled to rewrite her composure. Though before she completely succeeded, a blissful smile spread across her lips. He wished he could save it somehow, tuck it away in a cedar box at the bottom of his armory, where it would be safe and cherished as long as he drew breath.</p><p>She swallowed and let out a low hum of contentment that settled in the back of his skull. “Commendable, General,” she said, her voice smoky as torch light. “As always.”</p><p>“It is my honor, your majesty.” </p><p>“Yes, it is.” The corners of her lips tugged in amusement but didn’t spread wide again. </p><p>His subvocals rolled with his unquenched thirst, perhaps she could feel them from where his palms slid down her hips. He pulled her silk robe back into place before retreating reluctantly, standing and stepping back from her throne. She offered her hand again, which he happily took and helped her stand.</p><p>“Such… valiant effort on behalf of my realm deserves more than one reward, don’t you agree?”</p><p>He tipped his head in deference, deep parts of him agreeing with her far more vehemently. “If you wish to honor me more, who am I to deny you?”</p><p>She stepped towards him, close but not touching. Jasmine and steel surrounded him again, sending his core muscles clenching. Her chin lifted, tilting her face as if she wished to kiss him. Like a comet, he was pulled helplessly into her orbit. But she did not meet him. She, instead, hovered a hair’s breadth apart. His control shuddered as he held there with his hands clasped behind his back, knuckles paling for the effort. </p><p>After several tense seconds, her gaze met his, curiosity and something like satisfaction in her eyes. “You would deny me nothing, would you?”</p><p>“<em> Nothing </em>,” he repeated in a fervent whisper. His plates were starting to itch from how close yet far she was. But he refused to move till she gave him leave.</p><p> She pulled away yet rewarded his restraint with the backs of her fingers stroking along his scarred mandible. Though he couldn’t help but lean into the touch, brushing a kiss to her knuckles as her hand dropped away. He was only mortal.</p><p>“Come.” She offered her hand and led him away from the table. There was a curtained doorway that divided the war room from her sleeping quarters of the tent. She pulled back the thick fabric and stepped inside, inviting him into her most private space. </p><p>The room was not overly large, nothing like her chambers back in her fortress. Her armor, spear, and shield were displayed proudly next to the entrance. There was a space for bathing and dressing. A smaller table for her own use tucked in the corner. But the room was dominated by the large bed in the center. Not four postered and curtained like in her ancient estate by the sea, a bedroll made for travel but still strewn with cushions and luxurious enough for royalty. The scent of her hovered in the room like incense. A few candles in the corners were the only source of light, casting soft shadows around the edges of her figure. </p><p>Once inside, she didn’t let go of his hand. Instead, her nimble fingers travelled up his arm, removing vambraces and pauldrons with practiced ease. She untied his cuirass from around his carapace, fingertips brushing against his sides, before setting it carefully aside with the other pieces. When strapped with his armor and weapons, he hardly noticed the weight of them anymore. But as she pulled off each piece, breath came easier to him, though he wasn’t sure if it was relief or anticipation that filled his lungs so readily. Every plate of steel gone felt like a skin removed, stripping away the mantle of General to leave behind just him for her. </p><p>She went to remove his greaves, moving to kneel before him, when he reflexively stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. She shouldn’t– But her eyes snapped up to him, sharp and flinty. </p><p><em> Would you deny me this? </em> </p><p>No, he would not. So he pulled his hand back, humbled by the rare view and trying to deny how the unique angle stirred up memories filled with desire. </p><p>She pulled off the last of his armor and then rose, her half-smile distracting him from her hand till it dragged up his completely spread plates over his pants. That made him flinch and suck in a sharp breath, sparks leapt onto the crumbling tower of his composure. </p><p>“Too much?” she asked in a low voice. His eyes opened to find her looking at him intensely, brows flickering just towards each other.</p><p>He shook his head. “Never.”</p><p>She repeated the action, but he was ready for her this time. The gentle pressure emanated out through his whole person, making his subvocals sputter and stop for a moment. He was absolutely weeping in his sheath, but she stopped before it became too much. </p><p>With just one hand at his waist, the sensation muted from his underclothes but knee-buckling all the same, she urged him to sit on the foot of her bed. He was closer to her face this way, giving him a chance to admire the sharp line of her jaw, how her eyes were inky black haloed with thin green. She was breathtaking on the field and away.</p><p>Breaking all contact with him, she edged into the space between his knees, commanding his complete attention without a word. Not letting him look away, she loosened the tie of her robe. It slipped off her shoulders and pooled on the ground, leaving her only in her dagger. He found an anchor in the silk sheets beneath him, talons gripping the fabric for dear life. Her eyes proclaimed proudly that she knew <em> exactly </em> what the sight of all of her was doing to him. His gaze greedily swept over her figure, like a bandit discovering a pirate’s hoard, taking in the exotic curves and admiring the few pale scars. The need to put his hands on her and pull her close scalded his palms. He longed to kiss every freckle that dotted her skin, to hear her gasp his name as he buried himself inside her. She let him admire for a few breathless moments, but twisted the dagger when she lifted her holstered leg to rest her foot on his knee. </p><p>“Would you help me, General?” she asked calmly, as if asking for him to bring her the weather reports.</p><p>He swallowed, <em> hard </em>. Then again. No, growling subvocals would not allow words she could understand now. So he instead simply obeyed, unwinding the leather strap before pulling it through the buckle. His hands only trembled slightly, but stilled as the steadying weight of the dagger dropped into his palm. He offered it to her, pride shoring him up as he persevered under her visual onslaught. </p><p>She took it from him and turned away, long hair tossing over her shoulder and brushing against his face for just a moment. “Would you want some Aephusian Ale?” she asked, sashaying away with a pronounced hip swing that he could not ignore. “I know how much you enjoy it.”</p><p>“Of course,” he rumbled, dropping his gaze away from her to gain his bearings more. A few deep breaths cleared his head enough for her return, proffering a dark glass bottle. His attention could not be afforded anywhere but on her as he took a sip, not quite paying attention till the taste registered. </p><p>Garrus blinked. “This… this is actually Aephusian Ale,” he said, looking down at the bottle in his hand. It tasted <em> exactly </em> like the drink in the book. Spirits, where had Shepard found this?</p><p>“Of course it is,” his Queen said in a low voice, pulling him back in as she stepped closer. “You think I don’t know my best General’s favorite drink?”</p><p>He smiled softly up at her. “I am humbled by your attentions,” the General replied.</p><p>She moved even closer, nearly touching him now. He could feel the warmth radiating lowly off her skin. It grew stronger as she leaned towards him, head angling once again for a kiss. And like before, she stopped a grain of sand away, though this time a strangled whine snuck up the back of his throat before he quickly cut it off. </p><p>A gloating look floated through her eyes. “Your orders are to retreat, General.” </p><p>Unsure precisely what she meant, he frowned slightly up at her. She waved her hand and it clicked. It wasn’t graceful, but he moved backwards across the bed, only stopping when the back of his carapace met the cushions already set up to support him. As if to make up for his lack of coordination, his Queen prowled towards him, a hungry look simmering in her eye. Feeling trapped in the very best way, he set aside the ale. </p><p>She crawled all the way up to straddle his lap, dropping herself the last inch and expelling a soft groan from his gut at the sudden contact. But it transformed in a low growl as she rocked her hips, rubbing her sodden center over his sheath. His swollen cock begged to be released, trapped by her and his pants, and her steady, eddying pressure was delicious torture. But she was nefarious and brutal, his Queen, and she reminded him of that as her arms wound around his shoulders, fingers trailing up his neck to the skin under his fringe. He could have borne the burden without complaint had she not also dipped her head and finally pressed that craved kiss not to his mouth but to his vulnerable throat.</p><p>That finally broke him. </p><p>“Please,” he bit out, head dropped back in utter submission. “<em> Please </em>, your majesty.”</p><p>She kissed his neck once, twice more, and then bit down. It wasn’t enough to leave a mark through his skin, but his whole body jerked, jostling her and halting her slow grinding. Without any rush, she lifted herself up off his lap to meet his eyes, a palm smoothing down his fringe. </p><p>“Yes, General? Is there something you desire?” she asked in that same calm voice.</p><p>“<em> You </em>.” His subvocals were shredded with clawing need. “Always you.”</p><p>Hands cradling his face, she tilted his head forward enough to press her brow to his in a turian kiss. The simple yet profound gesture blew right through simple carnal desire, landing square in the deep unspeakable truth at his very core. Eyes shut, he pressed up against her as fervently as the angle would allow, letting his subvocals sing with the words he didn’t dare to utter.</p><p>She pulled back for a moment, soothing fingers brushing along his mandibles, then leaned back in, lips so close to his mouth. But this time, she whispered, “Kiss me.”</p><p>And he did, surging forward to claim her mouth with his. After so much build-up and denial, it rapidly deepened to something needy and demanding. Technique and skill were completely abandoned in favor of pure sensation. He <em> needed </em> her tongue tangled with his, her breath in his lungs. Oh, though it was so blissfully wonderful to taste her again, it was not enough. Nothing less than all of her would suffice.</p><p>“<em> Please </em>, my Queen,” he rumbled, tracing his mandible along the smooth line of her jaw. “I need you. Please.”</p><p>She kissed him once more, rising up on her knees to break the pressure on his waist and tilt his head back as far as it would go. Her hand rested on his throat, fingertips tracing small circles on either side and pulling uncontrollable shudders from him with every small movement.</p><p>“I’m already yours. Take me,” she whispered with a slight smile.</p><p>She obviously had not been prepared for his attack as she let out a small cry when he flipped their positions, tossing her back on the bed with as much care as he could muster. It turned into a breathless chuckle as he pulled away just long enough to wrench his trousers off. A deep groan left him as he was finally freed from his sheath, relief sparkling down his spine and numbing the back of his skull.</p><p>“Can always count on you to be ready for battle,” she mused.</p><p>He had plans to remove his shirt too and possibly say something witty back. But all thoughts were driven from his head as he caught a glimpse of his Queen completely splayed on the bed, dark eyes taking in his figure, her hand sliding down her stomach with obvious intent. He caught it before it reached its destination, pressing another quick kiss to her pulse. She groaned softly at being interrupted.</p><p>“I would deny you nothing, your Majesty. But it is my honor to be the only one to please you this evening,” he purred, nipping a kiss to her collarbone.</p><p>“Then what are you waiting for?” She sounded annoyed, though there was a telling glimmer in her eyes that spoke otherwise. He lifted one of her legs into the crook of his elbow and leaned forward, just enjoying the low whimpers she made as he rocked through her heat.</p><p>“Absolutely nothing.” And he kissed her again as he finally joined with his Queen. Twin groans floated through the air of the tent as he immediately set a deep and thorough pace. Her clenching heat around him demanded his full attention, everything else but her disappeared from his mind. Her tongue tangled with his, and her fingers trailed down his fringe. </p><p>He kissed every inch of her skin that he could reach, running his tongue along her throat, nuzzling mandibles across her shoulders. She returned the favor with her own kisses up his neck, though his steady rhythm stuttered when she bit him again. Spirits, she knew him too well. Though he knew her just the same, and so he left his own nips along her collarbones, the base of her neck, anywhere that could be hidden by her armor. The evidence of their love was just for their knowledge. </p><p>Her low swears and strangled groans were the sweetest tune he’d ever heard. But he wanted the full symphony. An honest-to-the-gods whimper escaped her throat when he stilled and pulled back. <em> Oh </em>. He’d proudly wear that as a medal of honor on his breast if she could mint it.</p><p>“I’m not leaving,” he promised breathlessly. He lifted her hips and slid a cushion underneath, changing the angle of their meeting. “Still good?”</p><p>She clenched her inner muscles around him with a smirk. </p><p>“<em> Fuck </em>,” he groaned in answer to his own question.</p><p>“You have not yet been relieved of duty, Gen–” The end of her word changed into a deep moan as he rocked once, testing the new arrangement on his knees. Holding her open with his grip on her leg, he moved again, enjoying thoroughly watching the collision ripple through her body and hearing the echoes in her voice. Her hands stretched out for him but failed to reach their mark as he pressed the pad of his thumb to her clit, circling in the pattern he knew she liked best. She went fully lax, granting him full command over her pleasure. </p><p>“Look at me,” he pleaded, more subvocal than voice. But she obeyed. She demanded his continual gaze with hers, and neither looked away as he drove them steadily to their peak. Her acquiescence to his strategy started to crumble, however, as they drew close. A hand found purchase on his hip, pulling him closer, deeper, More. He eagerly surrendered what advantages distance allowed him in movement for the feeling of tucking his face against her neck. </p><p>Her cries abruptly spiked in pitch, and he just managed to catch her mouth with his for one last kiss before she reached bliss. Her body shuddering in his arms, and her slick heat clenching around him finished him off. Gratification shot down his spine, white hot and addictingly pure. He held tight to her, muscles locking as he convulsed once, twice, three times. Then every bit of tension in his body evaporated, all thought reducing to a rich blissfulness, thick enough to float away in.</p><p>A five-fingered hand rested on the back of his neck, stroking slowly up and down. Reflexes drunk-slow, he opened his eyes to find his Queen half-beneath him, looking nearly as relaxed as he felt. She caught his eye and a slow smile spread across her face, growing so fond it bubbled up into a low affectionate laugh. He pressed his brow to hers, a hand slipping into her hair, and laughed with her. </p><p>The air between them was saturated with the Unspoken. But it could barely be anymore blatantly stated than in his every small kiss upon her cheek. Every adjustment of limbs so they fit together even neater than before. Every slowing breath they shared as more one than two.</p><p>Her hand insinuated itself between his tunic and the small of his back, stroking his spine before tugging on the shirt. </p><p>“Remove this,” she murmured, eyes half open. “Your Queen demands it.”</p><p>“I don’t want to harm you,” he replied lowly, a hand smoothing over her bare hip. </p><p>“Do you think I’m as fragile as that?”</p><p>He shook his head. “Not fragile… precious.”</p><p>That wide eyed, awed look returned to her face, so wholly honest it took his breath away for a moment. Then she moved, crawling over him and kissing him once before pulling him up to sitting. She removed his tunic and then wrapped him in a long hug. The steady presence of her skin on his was centering in a way he couldn’t quite describe. The world, the galaxy fell into balanced order every time.</p><p>He hummed as she kissed his neck, slowly, luxuriously. Desire stirring slightly with the delicate attentions. She made her way leisurely up the length, pressing a final kiss to the side of his head then whispering, “<em> You are so precious to me </em>.”</p><p>His breath caught in his chest, but she didn’t pull away. More kisses made their way down his mandible then meeting his mouth in gentle caresses. She cradled his head in her arms, a hand brushing down his fringe.</p><p>“<em> I don’t know where I’d be without you. </em>” The look in her eyes was so fervently honest, he couldn’t do anything but stare up at her. The lines between Shepard and his Queen blurring till he wasn’t sure which one continued speaking. “I owe you my life more times over than I can ever repay. I never want to know what life is like without you at my side.”</p><p>His hands slid up her spine to pull her down for another kiss, adamant and just shy of bruising. “You’ll never have to know,” he swore to her, brow pressed to hers. “Not while it’s in my power. You’ll never know.”</p><p>She nodded and kissed him again, her breath shaking for reasons unrelated to the need in his touch. Her hands roved his body, finger tips slipping between plates, palms over his waist, while her mouth stayed steady on his. But there was no teasing in her touch this time, just devotion so pure it humbled him to receive it.</p><p>“Let me show you,” she whispered before kissing him deeply. “Please.”</p><p>He nodded, and her kisses drifted down his neck, across his cowl and down his carapace. Every muscle in his body clenched as he finally realized her intention. She stopped and looked up at him, but he was already nodding when her gaze met his. It turned warm and fond, and she settled on her stomach between his legs, pressing a chaste kiss to his hip.</p><p>He hadn’t reemerged from his sheath yet, though his plates were still fully relaxed. However, as she started drawing slow designs with her fingertips across his waist, he could already feel the efficacy in her small gestures. The sight of her was transfixing, hypnotic. Every puff of warm breath across his most sensitive skin electrified him. </p><p>As she kissed him, an unstoppable moan dropped from his mouth. She smiled up at him and kept at her work, persistent and skilled. Every time after, he swore to himself that he’d exaggerated in his memory how <em> good </em> her mouth felt on him. And every time, she proved him wrong. It took no time at all till he slid out and directly into her waiting mouth. It was so perfect, it seared.</p><p>“<em> Shepard </em>,” he moaned, talons gripping the bed underneath him for dear life. She pulled back, giving him a break from the onslaught.</p><p>“Too much?” she asked. He looked down and nearly moaned again, shuddering instead. A slight blush had formed over her cheeks, and her hand was resting loosely at his base.</p><p>“You have ruined me… for anyone but you… my Queen,” he said in reply. </p><p>She smirked. “Good.” <em> You’re mine </em>. And she approached again less directly, slight kisses, gentle passes with her tongue. He willfully surrendered to her, focusing on her touch, her presence.</p><p>It always felt an honor to receive such… attention from one such as her. But right now, it felt more a gesture of trust. She could trust him to give her only what she desired. And whole-heartedly, he felt the very same. Her moaning while his length buried as deep as she could take him nearly brought him to his metaphorical knees. He’d follow her anywhere, even to his own blissful end, which she seemed very determined to deliver him to. But perhaps–</p><p>He rested a hand on her shoulder, whining at both the sight and feel of her soft mouth sliding up his length. It made his thoughts scatter like sand under a gale wind.</p><p>“Together,” he managed, swallowing hard to try and control his roiling subvocals. “I want… together. Please?”</p><p>She smiled and kissed his tip, sending one last jolt through his system, before retreating. “Since you asked so nicely.”</p><p>He had to literally shake sense back into his head before he could move from where she’d left him. “Come here,” he said, shifting up to his knees and stumbling forward for the effort.</p><p>“You alright?” Her voice bobbed in amusement.</p><p>“Like I said, you ruined me.” He took her hand and pulled her close, kissing her once, then again for good measure. Then he moved behind her, pulling her back to his front.</p><p>“<em> Oh </em>,” she said slowly as he rocked between her thighs. His subvocals sang in agreement. She smelled so good–salt and jasmine and them. She was so warm already. The thought that pleasuring him ignited her in the best way burned up the last of his patience.</p><p>He pulled her hair aside and nibbled a kiss to her neck. “<em> I want you </em>,” he breathed against her ear.</p><p>“Please,” she whispered back. She guided him inside her, both of them letting out a long slow breath at their joining. His hands roved her body, smoothing across hips and circling her breasts, as he encouraged her to sit back into his lap. They weren’t joined as deeply as before, but this angle always brushed against her most sensitive places with the slightest of movement. An advantage he exploited to immediate benefits.</p><p>Rocking together felt more natural than breathing. Her hands intertwined with his, pressing one down between her legs and the other to her breast. He gave her the pressure she desired gladly and continued whispering a low growl in her ear.</p><p>“You don’t understand how thoroughly you have ruined me for anyone that isn’t you. I couldn’t want my own kind anymore even if I tried.”</p><p> She answered with a wordless cry, her spine undulating in a way that should have been physically impossible and was so alluringly easy for her. Still he kept up the rhythm, subvocals purring at how perfect she felt against him, around him.</p><p>“How could anyone measure up after I’ve had you? My Queen… my Commander.”</p><p>She shuddered and moaned, a hand reaching back to grip his neck. “Your <em> voice </em>–Gar–General–”</p><p>“That’s it, my Queen. Focus on me and let go.” He let loose a subvocal rumble loud enough that she had to hear it. Her answering cry echoed around the tent. </p><p>They hadn’t been particularly quiet up to this point, and their involvement was a poorly kept secret. Still, the thought of any guard just outside hearing her right now, knowing what she sounded like in rapture. He caught her mouth with his, swallowing her cry and turning it to whimpers. </p><p>“No one but me gets to hear you like this tonight.”</p><p>“<em> Yes, </em> Garrus.”</p><p>The sound of his real name pleaded so desperately shot straight to his core, immediately imploding. He pressed his brow to hers and circled his fingers on her clit, making her kiss him again to moan in response.</p><p>“<em> Garrus </em> –General. General, <em> please </em>. I–”</p><p>“I’m here. I’ll always be right here,” he vowed solemnly, meaning it as truly as the Unspoken.</p><p>She sobbed, the hand on his neck sliding up to scrape dull nails across the skin under his fringe. He throbbed inside her, his own release having snuck up on him in his focus on her.</p><p>“With me?” she asked, her voice tight and desperate.</p><p>“Always.”</p><p>And with a kiss they fell over the edge together. </p><p>It was several minutes later that Garrus opened his eyes to a world made entirely of red hair. The two of them had simply slipped sideways on the bed, still intertwined with each other. Shepard before him was breathing steadily, slowly. </p><p>He pressed a kiss to the back of her head. “You alright?”</p><p>She nodded. “I need a quick break though,” she said, her words slurring slightly.</p><p>“Me too.” He pulled away enough to turn her onto her back and stretched out next to her. For a few minutes, he just admired her face, fingers combing through her hair till it laid flat on the bed.</p><p>“How did you make it so much longer?” he asked quietly.</p><p>She reached up into her hair and something snapped, then a section of the long hair came out.</p><p>“That’s… not yours?” he asked, more than a little bewildered.</p><p>“Well, it’s mine in that I own it. But I didn’t grow this hair, no.” She repeated the process a few more times, removing all the pieces from her scalp till just her usual shoulder length hair remained.</p><p>“That’s… disturbing.”</p><p>“I wanted to be authentic,” she replied with a shrug. “You liked it till you knew.”</p><p>He grunted, not wanting to agree, and reached for his long-abandoned bottle. “Speaking of authentic, how did you find actual Aephusian Ale in the middle of a war?” </p><p>She turned to her stomach and grinned. “You can find many things when you’re as powerful a queen as I am.”</p><p>He laughed and took a sip, savoring the unique flavors of the brew. “Do you want your mead? It’s back on the desk.”</p><p>“Yeah, I’ll get it.” She rolled away and hopped up the stairs to her office. He couldn’t help but admire how her curves were highlighted in the low glow from the fishtank and the one candle they’d dared on the coffee table. A slow smile spread across her face when she noticed him staring on her return.</p><p>“See something you like?” she purred, kneeling down next to him.</p><p>He wrapped an arm around her waist. “I see <em> many </em> things I like.”</p><p>She chuckled and sipped her drink, a hand idly stroking along his fringe. A turian could die happy like this, he thought, drinking his ale.</p><p>“Anything I can do different?” she asked after a minute. “Should the Queen be more aloof?”</p><p>He looked up at her and shook his head. “You’re perfect.”</p><p>Her slow smile returned. “You make a <em> damn </em> fine General, Vakarian.”</p><p>He chuckled. “Anything for my Queen.” Her smile changed to something more coy, nearly shy. Then he realized– “You like being my Queen, don’t you?”</p><p>A pink tint spread across the tops of her cheeks as she refused to look at him, taking another long sip instead. He set his ale down on the floor and sat up to nuzzle a kiss to her neck.</p><p>“It’s not so strange, is it?” She let him take her cup away as she continued speaking. “To like having the man you love promise devotion and loyalty… even if it’s just a story?”</p><p>He held her hands in his and pressed his forehead to hers, subvocals humming the Unspoken once more. “It’s not all a story,” he whispered. Her eyes opened to meet his. “You know that already, right?”</p><p>“Yes. I do.”</p><p>“Good.” Not looking away, he pushed her back on the bed and laid down at her side. They found the fit between themselves, arms wrapped around each other. He rested his brow against hers again, eyes shut. “I swear to guard my Commander from harm… and, with either my life or my death, ensure the success of her mission,” he promised in a low voice.</p><p>“I love you too,” she whispered back.</p><p>When he opened his eyes, they were back in the tent. Jasmine and tempered steel drifted on the soft desert wind. But it was Shepard–his Shepard–who laid in the bed with him. All the tragedies and horrors of their real lives left behind, even if only for a few minutes. Her warm regard shone out through her eyes, not held back but freely offered. </p><p>They pulled closer still. Her arms slipped up around his neck, and he lifted her leg over his waist. He kissed her like that for a long while, brushing mandibles over her cheeks to match her movements best he could. No words spoken, but none needed. Just the tempo of her breath told him everything he needed to know.</p><p>Slowly yet steadily, they came together. He held her eyes as long as he could, watching every slight expression in her eyes. They were so different, the two of them. And yet he never felt more understood, more Known, than he did when he was with her. She pressed his brow to hers, mouth moving with unspoken words that he felt deeper than his bones. They were unhurried, confident in their destination yet nearly satisfied to never arrive. Following the other in a dance they knew and loved so well at this point. A dance that Garrus quietly hoped would continue for the rest of their long, long lives till they could be buried in each other’s gaze. </p><p>Shepard pulled closer still at the end, tucking her face against his neck and tensing before a long shudder ran through her core. A quiet echo of response answered from his center, filling any remaining air between them with a gentle warmth.</p><p>They were both quiet for several minutes, still wrapped completely around the other. If he had just a touch less self-control, Garrus might have been content to drift off to sleep just like that. But the evening, while thoroughly enjoyable, had made a bit of a mess.</p><p>“We should clean up,” he said quietly, without moving.</p><p>“Yes,” came the eventual reply from the area below his chin.</p><p>“...We have to move to do that.”</p><p>“You move. I’m too fucked to move.”</p><p>That made him chuckle and he pulled away, rolling up to standing next to the bed. Shepard groaned and made a weak attempt to pull him back, hand flopping against the bed. </p><p>“Well if you can’t walk, let me carry you then, your magnificence, to the royal baths.”</p><p>She laughed as he lifted her from the bed and whisked her off to the bathroom. They both grunted as the bright light flipped on when they entered. But the steaming water from the shower soon soothed any sting.</p><p>Shepard eventually got down, but still stayed within his arms, very content to let him wash her hair and rub sore muscles. He felt much the same as she returned the favor, cleaning him with a dedicated care that quieted his mind.</p><p>“Is there anything like this?” she mused as she shut the water off.</p><p>Garrus reached for a towel. “Hm?”</p><p>“In the book. Do the General and Queen do anything like this?”</p><p>“Oh.” He wrapped the towel around her shoulders as he thought. “There is a scene in a hot spring that’s pretty famous.”</p><p>She smiled and wrung out her hair. “Mm. I like hot springs.”</p><p>“Me too.”</p><p>They fell into the quiet routine of sleep, the late hour finally catching up to both of them. Shepard didn’t speak again till she eased into the bed next to him, under freshly changed sheets. </p><p>“So what happens?” she asked as he looped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer. “In the book, how does it end?”</p><p>He stared at her for a long moment and then answered honestly, grimly. “She sacrifices herself for the good of her people. And though he carries on, he never loves another. How could he?”</p><p>Her warm expression dimmed. “That’s… disappointing.”</p><p>“That’s turian romance.”</p><p>She shook her head and adjusted her fit in his arms, tucking an ankle into his spur. “Let’s change it. She… goes to sacrifice herself for the good of the people. But…  he gets there in the nick of time, like always. And together… they win. Go on to have many more adventures and found the new turian empire.”</p><p>He smiled and threaded a hand into her hair, eyes drifting shut. “Much better.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>As always, I'd adore your thoughts below or you can find me on tumblr: <a href="https://miceenscene.tumblr.com/">miceenscene</a>. &lt;3, Kaitlyn</p></blockquote></div></div>
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